The One Where She Gets Revenge
by i.heart.play-doh
Summary: Calleigh settles the score. Or at least, tries to. CaRWash. :D


**hey! long time no see, eh? **

**school's been dying down, in terms of homework & projects & such, so you'll be seeing me around here more often. :D**

**so. anybody else just a teensy bit annoyed at the lack of Calleigh/Ryan scenes on the show? i know i am, though they did give me hope in Wolfe In Sheep's Clothing that something would emerge, but alas, no. which is why i'm here & probably why you're here. together we can mourn. haha **

**i don't know about this one. it's my first story without any dialogue; thought it'd be cool to try it out. it's not overly funny or serious. i'd like to say it's hot, but that's for you to decide. **

**if you get disappointed, please, don't give up on me. =P i have done much better work on this untitled series; just check out the other stories titled kinda like this one is. but you can read any other ones. they're all gonna be CaRWash, anyways. (& if not, probably no other ship. i'm that much of a hardcore fan haha)**

**before i forget: Disclaimer: if i owned Csi: Miami, you'd be able to tell, with the bombardment of CaRWash & the lack of screentime for the other main characters, the crime scenes & all the science. **

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Calleigh Duquesne practically stomped up the stairs of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. She was not off to a happy start. Not two hours ago, she'd been in bed with Ryan Wolfe.

Yes, that's right. In bed. With Ryan… wait for it... Wolfe.

Backtracking a couple hours before that, the two of them were having a midnight – early morning, technically – snack: a stack of pancakes they'd baked together. If Ryan doing all the hard work and Calleigh just sitting there watching him counted as 'together'. Who knew he'd be such a good cook? And all from scratch, too!

They ended up in bed after Calleigh had verbally wondered how it would be like to lick maple syrup off of... – well, it's so straightforward that that part doesn't even need to be said –, to which Ryan replied – with one of those sexy smirks he knew she found irresistible – that he'd bought bottles and bottles of syrup, so they could experiment for days and still have enough for at least hundred more batches of those delightful flapjacks.

The time that had elapsed between the last coherent noises either of them had made and his cell phone vibrating had been a blur.

All she could remember was the last kiss he'd given her before he rolled over and gently placed her on the mattress to retrieve his phone. That kiss, she could recall vividly, was breathtaking, and not just literally. He'd nibbled on her lower lip, a move he'd discovered early on in their relationship. And while she loved it, it left her hungry. For more kisses, more caressing, more him.

Calleigh didn't like feeling needy; it was certainly no walk in the park. She was raised to be strong and independent, but no matter how sturdy she thought she was, he was always able to shatter the walls with one touch. That part she learned not to mind so much; it was nice to finally be open and be herself with someone, especially with him. It was her desire for him, not to mention his persistence on playing hard to get, that bothered her.

So there she was, frantically thinking up of an excuse to bring herself to work an hour early because she simply couldn't wait any longer. It just seemed so _long_, an hour. 60 minutes. 3600 seconds.

The road was fortunately fairly empty. So far she hasn't encountered a traffic jam or smushed some little kid with her maniacal driving, considering that she was driving faster than usual – and faster than the suggested speed limit.

Fine. If he insists on playing, well… two can play at that game. Just as long as the others don't catch onto the naughty little competition they were having.

She exhaled confidently as she pulled into the parking lot. Man, was she glad she wore her tight pants today.

Cool air-conditioning met her warm skin. She loved Miami, but if the recent heat waves don't stop enveloping the city soon, they're going to be the death of her. But she was determined to get one person in here all kinds of hot, and if she had to have a heatstroke later that day, at least she'd die a happy death knowing that she'd won.

She found Ryan in a deserted hallway. He had stopped and was talking to the relatively new member of their team, coroner Tara Price. He stole a glance at Calleigh, and smirked slightly. Damn! She'd inadvertently given him a point on the scoreboard for coming to work without a valid reason of why she'd clocked in early (taunting his manly needs was definitely not legitimate.) But for once, she didn't care as much. The last match in their little game, she'd decided, was going to be played for all the marbles in the box. And since she was the only one who knew it, there was no way he'd prevail.

From a distance, she watched as it went from purely professional to anything but. Ryan's shoulders slumped faintly, and his arms uncrossed – unnoticed by the untrained eye, but for Calleigh, who watched him all the time, both were sure signs that he was beginning to relax.

And while she knew he held no romantic feelings for the medical examiner, she didn't feel all that fine and dandy having to see it. Her stare became one identical to that of stone; on one hand, her jealousy meant she had real deep feelings about Ryan, but on the other, it also meant she was falling for his trap. So she settled for the middle way, feeling jealous, but not showing it. Buddha would have been proud.

Tara meanwhile, who didn't have and never will have a clue about their ulterior motives, got a hunch that Ryan might have a crush on her. Or he could just be a real good actor playing a dirty prank (Eric was probably somewhere waiting for his cue to participate in another one of their hazes). She picked the former, mainly because that one made her feel better, and eventually played along, laughing at his jokes, responding with touches on his arms and pats on his shoulders.

So she had no idea how much she'd been aiding Ryan in trying to torture Calleigh either. Calleigh's eyes narrowed, and she set off her path toward the pair. She was going to set things straight once and for all.

On her way to them, she noticed Ryan staring at the way her hips swiveled; she'd swayed them more deliberately. He grew speechless, and left Tara laughing all by herself as he stood there, mesmerized. Calleigh suppressed a smile. Finally she was on the scoreboard.

Taking no time for pleasantries, Calleigh walked right up to the two, and tugged Ryan's arm, making him slant a little. At the sudden pull, Ryan could not respond quickly enough. Calleigh tiptoed slightly, whispering in his ear. The trickle of hot breath tickled his ear. He shivered. Points: 2.

But Calleigh was far from over. She murmured – too soft for Tara to comprehend but loud enough for Ryan's body to get physical down there. Slowly and with an accent several notches thicker, she whispered what she wished to do to him right at that moment, even with Tara just standing there. She honestly had no idea where she was getting her inspiration from but it was working. Points: 3 and counting.

Her peripheral vision caught Tara's eyes widening in slow motion. Ryan's eyes probably rolled to the back of his head and fluttered with pleasure – and any person knew what that meant. Oh, how fast was she catching up? Pretty fast, if she had any say to it.

Accomplishing the task, Calleigh grinned devilishly. She turned to Tara, and greeted her warmly. Ryan took a while to recover, and once he did, he interrupted their conversation and asked politely if he could steal Calleigh for just a moment. Surprisingly the good doctor nodded her head swiftly, as if she was eternally grateful for finally being rid of Ryan. In truth, Tara thought Ryan was nice, but if she was being hazed again, she secretly wished it had been Eric who did the flirting. Tara left quickly, muttering something about loads of work and that she'd be stuck in the morgue for hours to come because of an unwanted but greatly needed distraction. Ryan just grinned sheepishly.

Once the coast was clear Ryan grabbed Calleigh's arm hastily and led the way to an abandoned staircase; it was almost always empty and was practically considered to be hidden.

Then, without warning, he pushed her body to the wall and sandwiched her between the wall and himself. In seconds his lips crashed onto hers hungrily. He allowed her space to boost herself up and wrap her legs around his hips. As a reflex her fingers ran through his short hair and down his neck, just as his own hands traveled all over her face and body. They finally rested, one on her cheek and the other on her back, holding her up. She couldn't seem to keep her hands steady.

His kisses grew more passionate, and she reciprocated, tongues playing around and experimenting with each other. When they stopped briefly to breathe he moaned in satisfaction. He let her down on her feet. But then, keeping eye contact, it was already decided; they wanted more.

And so they were at it again, this time faster and with even more fervor. Clothes threatened to leave skin and meet the floor as they continued to taste each other. His soft lips left hers and he moved down, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck, down to her chest, where her clothes weren't interfering. Calleigh breathed heavily, trying not to attract nosy workers. Ryan straightened, then pressed himself against her.

He was ready, she was sure of it. So she had taken the initiative and moved her hand to undo the button on his dark jeans, when she felt his hand slide down and clamp hers softly but firmly.

She grew confused. What was he doing?

Abruptly, in absolute certainty that it was with an unearthly strength – she was Calleigh Duquesne; who _wouldn't_ want to do her? – he stopped kissing her. He stepped back a bit, letting go of her hand and brushing the other in her hair one last time before he began buttoning the shirt that she never quite got off of him.

He buttoned it slowly, watching in amusement as she savored his muscled chest with her eyes, torturing her more and more as each fastened button covered the upper body she wanted to touch so badly.

Just as his bare chest disappeared under the fabric, she snapped out of her trance and picked up the tie she dropped to the ground moments before and handed it to him. Their hands touched, and left them both wanting more, that much she knew. Except he seemed to control it _much_ better than she did.

Ryan stepped back closer to her, and used one hand to gently put a stray strand of her long blond hair behind her ear. His thumb caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes in bliss.

Calleigh reached up to her cheek to keep Ryan's hand in place for a couple more seconds but only seemed to catch air. She opened her eyes and saw him leaning on the doorjamb, arms across his chest and tie hanging on his shoulder. He grinned, glistening white teeth showing, winked, and walked off.

She pouted. He won, again. How in the hell was he capable of leaving someone as strong and independent as her so weak in the knees? She stood there, in awe, trying to figure him out. In the span of five minutes, she'd managed to use up all her sexy moves, and all she was left with was… well, not him.

Realizing she had no need to stay at headquarters (she had come to work early, after all), she packed up her stuff and went out to her car. She decided to lay the blame on his choice of wardrobe. Sneaky sex in the stair well lost its edge once she'd unintentionally almost choked him with his own tie and then failed to unbutton his shirt in record time.

So it wasn't really her fault; more like the clothes' fault for being so difficult.

Upon being enlightened, Calleigh made an arrest-worthy U-turn. She wanted to buy him some stylish clip-on ties and those metal-buttoned not-horribly-repulsive shirts. She broke out into a full-toothed grin; the metal buttons would come off so quickly he wouldn't know what hit him until he was inside her. Or better yet, Velcro-fastening clothes. She was sure the sound of Velcro ripping off would turn them on – it sure does for her.

Oh yeah. She didn't hope, she _expected_ her detour to the mall would be more fruitful than her unrewarding attempts at leaving Ryan hanging – no pun intended.

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**so? good enough? not good enough?**

**reviews me, please, while i go & try my hand at a nice angsty multi-chapter CaRWash songfic. now _that_ one, you certainly won't be disappointed in. ;]**


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